


Forever Hold This Over Your Head And In Your Heart And On Your Sleeve

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Series: Short and Sweet (Fics of About 1000 Words or Less) [11]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of character death, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Spoilers for Events From Episode 26 of Campaign 2, This Is Me Being Cathartic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:51:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Beau lies in a field of tall grass, blinking fireflies almost as numerous as stars in the sky above her, a full moon as large as she’s ever seen shining down, illuminating everything as clearly as if she were wearing her goggles that let her see in the dark. She has her hands behind her head and she’s enjoying the warmth of the night, feeling at peace in a way that usually only comes with a few drinks in her.“Hey.”Beau turns her head at the sound of Molly’s voice. “Hey yourself.”Molly grins, teeth as bright as the moon. His eyes shine. “Thanks for not burying me.”





	Forever Hold This Over Your Head And In Your Heart And On Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I hope to all the gods that are and those that aren't that the remaining three *try* to get Molly resurrected. But if that doesn't happen, or if it fails? Consider this an epilogue or a eulogy.

The night they lay Molly to rest, Beau is the last one to fall asleep in their shared room, Nott falling asleep first with Caleb following soon after, their eyes swollen and red from weeping. Beau hasn’t cried yet. There’s a lot of things she hasn’t done yet, like have a drink. She really hates being sober right now, but the thought of going downstairs, seeing other people, having to interact with them, is just fucking exhausting. She hasn’t slept in days either, but she doesn’t want to close her eyes, because every time she does all she sees is purple and red. So much red. Still, her eyes do close, and sleep does come to her.

_Beau lies in a field of tall grass, blinking fireflies almost as numerous as stars in the sky above her, a full moon as large as she’s ever seen shining down, illuminating everything as clearly as if she were wearing her goggles that let her see in the dark. She has her hands behind her head and she’s enjoying the warmth of the night, feeling at peace in a way that usually only comes with a few drinks in her._

_“Hey.”_

_Beau turns her head at the sound of Molly’s voice. “Hey yourself.”_

_Molly grins, teeth as bright as the moon. His eyes shine. “Thanks for not burying me.”_

_Beau remembers then, that Molly is dead, but she feels weirdly calm about it, like one does in dreams, which she realizes this is, but it’s one of those dreams that felt true. “We just couldn’t, you know? And then Keg mentioned burning your body instead and Caleb went all—you know— Caleb. Not like we would have done that anyway.”_

_“The mausoleum’s nice,” Molly says cheerfully. “Though I can think of better ways to spend your money than on making sure someone comes to check on my body every day.” He looks up at the stars, at the moon. “I don’t think I’m coming back this time.”_

_Beau watches him watch the moon. He’s smiling, not even a little upset. “How can you be so calm? You_ **_died_ ** _. It’s not— fuck, it’s not_ **_fair_ ** _.”_

_Molly laughs a little. “Maybe not, but it was worth it. I mean,_ **_you_ ** _got away.”_

_Beau sits up, grass brushing against her shoulders. “Your death was worth it because I_ **_lived_ ** _?”_

_“Well yeah.” Molly sits up as well, knees drawn up to his chest, arms around his knees. He laughs. “I get to hold that over your head forever now. You should keep my coat.”_

_Beau’s brain stalls at the sudden change in topic. “What?”_

_“My coat. You three went to the trouble of getting it magically cleaned, and it’s meant to be worn, not left to fall apart with the rest of me. Get it tailored so you have the chance of looking as fabulous in it as I did. And for gods sake, take my jewelry off, it’s just going to get stolen. Let Nott have it. The horn jewelry can go to Jester. And make sure Yasha gets my cards, okay?”_

_“Are you— are you giving me your_ **_will_ ** _right now?”_

_“And don’t get caught up in thoughts of revenge on my account.” Molly turns to her, no longer smiling. “I mean, if you get the chance and you_ **_can_ ** _, sure, kill that fucker, one less asshole in the world. But I don’t want any of you dying for me, all right? Get our three out, get as many out as you can, get away, spend one night around a table and get stupid drunk and tell stories about me and laugh and cry as much as you need. Next morning, curse your hangovers and go on with your lives and your adventures and don’t forget to have some fun once in awhile. Try to leave each place better than you found it. Don’t get stuck in the past, gods know I didn’t. Take care of each other.”_

_Beau realizes she’s crying, tears running silently down her face._

_“If I give you a hug, are you going to punch me?”_

_“Try it and find out,” Beau says, because even now she can’t ask for comfort, not even in dreams, no matter how true or not they might be._

_Molly’s arms are warm, and he smells like he always did when he was alive, like lavender and incense and the copper tang of old blood. The moment lasts forever and is over far too quickly, like anything in dreams. When Molly pulls away, Beau punches him lightly in the arm and Molly laughs like he expected it. “Is that all you’ve got?”_

_“Fuck you, obnoxious one.” Beau says, and it sounds like ‘I’ll miss you’._

_“Fuck you too, unpleasant one,” Molly replies with a grin, and it sounds like ‘goodbye.’_

Beau wakes up, pillow wet with tears. Still, she can’t help but laugh.

“Son of a bitch got the last word after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> I"m angel-ascending over on Tumblr if y'all want to stop by and say hi, or just make sad noises at me about Molly.


End file.
